this gift you're offering, I'll welcome a challenge from an Englishman. He'll be no threat to me."
Beak visibly relaxed. "No it's about it," he boasted.
"Is your gift a horse perchance?" Daniel asked, shaking his head in confusion. He still didn't understand what the stable master was trying to tell Alec.
The Kincaid understood. "It isn't a horse, Daniel."
Beak grinned. The man was proving to be as astute as the best of them. "Once you see my gift, Laird Kincaid, you'll be set on having it, all right," he boasted. "Are you partial to blue eyes, milord?"
"Many have blue eyes in the Highlands, Beak," Daniel interjected.
"Well, now," Beak drawled out, "there's blue and then there's blue." He let out a loud chuckle, then cleared his throat and continued, "Now to me riddle, Laird Kincaid. Baron Jamison treats his daughters just like his horses and that's a fact. Only have a look around you and you'll get my meaning soon enough. The pretty little ladies in these three stalls are for the baron's daughters, right there for anyone to see. But if you'll walk down this long corridor and turn the bend, you'll see another stall hidden away in the far corner by the side door. It's separated from the others. That's where the baron keeps his beauty, a magnificent white pretty just waiting for a proper mating. Humor this daft old man, for I'm Scots if you'll remember, and take a good look at the horse," Beak urged, motioning the warriors forward. "It's worth your time especially, Laird Kincaid."
"He's caught my curiosity," Daniel told Alec.
Both men followed the stable master. Beak's manner changed considerably when they reached the stall. He poked a piece of straw between his front teeth, leaned against the wall with one foot casually crossed over the other, and proceeded to watch the high-strung filly put up a grand fuss when Alec reached out to stroke her. The side door was cracked open, letting the sun filter inside to cast a soft banner of light on the horse's silver mane.
The proud beauty wouldn't settle down for a good long while, but in the end, the warrior wooed her into showing a hint of her gentle nature. Beak only hoped the laird would gentle Jamie with just as much patience.
"She's a beauty, all right," Daniel remarked.
"Still half wild," Alec interjected. He actually smiled then, and Beak concluded being half wild wasn't a flaw in his mind.
"Her name's Wildfire and she's deserving of that name to be sure. The baron can't get near her. He gave her to his youngest daughter when it became evident she was the only one who could seat the horse."
Alec smiled again—a miracle, that—when the mare tried to bite his hand. "She's feisty. With a good stallion, the offspring will be sound—spirited, too."
Beak gave Alec another thorough inspection. When he met the warrior's gaze again, he was grinning. "That's exactly what I'm thinking about my gift to you."
Beak pulled away from the wall, affected an important air, then said, "As I was telling you, Laird Kincaid, the baron treats his daughters just like his horses. Three right up front for anyone to see…"
He vowed he wasn't going to say another word. It was up to the Scotsman to figure the rest of the riddle.
"Beak? Are you inside?"
The interruption came from Lady Jamie. Beak was so startled he almost swallowed the piece of straw he was chewing on. "That be the youngest of the baron's daughters," he told the two warriors. "And there's the side door," he added in a soft whisper. "If you're wanting to leave now, that's the quickest way to the main house. I'd best see what my Jamie is wanting."
For his advanced years, Beak could still move with surprising speed. He rounded the corner and caught Jamie and her sister Mary in the center of the hallway.
"Were you talking to someone, Beak?" Mary asked. "I thought I heard—"
"Just having a little visit with Wildfire," Beak lied.
"Jamie
Daniela Fischerova, Neil Bermel